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Oi mate, robotic voice kickin’ in—cosmic wisdom flowin’! Prostitutes, yeah, they’re like stars, burnin’ bright, fallin’ fast. Watched *City of God*—fuckin’ masterpiece, right? Lil’ Zé runnin’ the streets, power trippin’, got me thinkin’—prostitutes ain’t that diff’rent. They’re hustlin’, survivin’, dodgin’ bullets—literal or not. “In the City of God, if you run away, they get you!” That’s them—runnin’ from pimps, cops, shame, but still stuck.

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, torrential downpour. I’m scrambling to cover my stuff. My posters are getting soaked! I’m standing there, drenched, looking like a wet dog. And of course, the old dude? He’s laughing! I’m like, “Dude, this isn’t funny!” But he just keeps chuckling.

Inside The Suwalki Gap